


Insufferable

by lahey



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, first fic, hints of Sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-29
Updated: 2013-08-29
Packaged: 2017-12-24 23:41:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/946065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lahey/pseuds/lahey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're the sour-est wolf I know."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Insufferable

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic, so be nice, please? Maybe comment and tell me things I could improve on? Thanks!  
> x,  
> mela ☾

"Stiles."

"Derek."

"Stiles."

" _Derek_."

" _Stiles_."

After fifteen minutes of an intense stare-down, Stiles finally caved. 

"Yes, okay, oh my god, I'll go, stop looking at me like that!"

"I knew you would," Derek replied with a grin-- the kind of grin that Stiles wanted to kiss off his face, the kind that made him want to tear his hair out in frustration because no one should be allowed to be so damn cute.

"Shut up," Stiles grumbled, picking up his jacket from off the couch. "And you call me the sour wolf," the werewolf snickered, tossing him the keys to his Jeep. "I call you a sour wolf because you are a sour wolf. You're the sour-est wolf I know--"

"Stiles, sour-est isn't even a word," Derek interrupted, that stupid smile never fading.

"--and you're very bossy, too, did you know that? You always try to correct me, like you just did, see--"

"Stiles, just go home--"

"You're always telling me to shut up or go home. Am I that annoying? And kicking me out when my dad and I are in a fight and Scott's all heartbroken, so not cool-- lame, actually.That's the lame-est thing ever, dude--"

"Lame-est isn't a word either--"

"--and don't think I don't know about you and Blake having sexy times--"

"Sexy times, Stiles, really? Every one knew about Jennifer and I, and it's over anyway. Why do you--"

"Only because she's the one who was, oh, you know, murdering people? Yeah, what a fantastic conversation starter. 'So Jennifer, what do you do in your spare time?' 'I enjoy sacrificing humans, teaching high-school English, and making out with really hot werewolves, how about you?'--"

"You think I'm hot?" Derek asked, raising an eyebrow.

His eyebrows, Stiles noticed, are always so nicely shaped. Stiles briefly wondered if he got them waxed before responding: "For fuck's sake, Derek, yes, I think your hot. Everyone thinks your hot. I bet you even Harris thinks you're hot."

"If you think I haven't noticed you avoiding leaving, you're wrong," Derek not-so-subtly tried gesturing for Stiles to leave, pushing him lightly in the direction of the door. "I hate you," Stiles muttered, shrugging on his jacket with a frown.

Derek heard his heart stutter, and a knowing smirk plastered itself onto his face.

"No you don't."

"I wish I did," Stiles said, already out the door as the words escaped his lips quietly.

So quietly that the werewolf almost didn't hear them, enhanced hearing be damned.

_Almost._

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Oh my god, you've never seen Star Wars? Come on, Derek, I thought you were cool," Stiles Stilinski said, not bothering to mask the disappointment in his voice. 

"Are you calling me uncool?" Scott McCall inquired from the other side of the couch, flicking a piece of popcorn at his friend's head. "Yes," Stiles replied, looking for the stray kernel, "yeah, that's exactly what I'm doing." Derek Hale emerged from the kitchen, armed with a new bowl of popcorn and a container of M&M's and settled into the couch, not bothering to reply. 

"Give me some," Stiles requested, reaching for the candy. Derek rolled his eyes. "You're like a five year old in a seventeen year old's body, I swear," the werewolf muttered, handing the box over. "Are we planning on watching this movie anytime soon? Alison and me have a date at seven," Scott interjected, popping a piece of the forgotten popcorn into his mouth. Stiles groaned, getting up to put in the movie-- that was the ninth time he'd mentioned his girlfriend that afternoon. "Scott, you know I think Alison is great and everything so don't take this the wrong way, but jesus freaking christ, stop talking. The movie will be over at, like, five, you're good."

Derek masked his laughter with a fake coughing fit. Scott saw right through it.

"Dude!" 

The older werewolf shrugged. "It's true."

 

"That movie was awful," Derek complained to Stiles, who'd been there even after Scott had left in a hurry. Stiles gasped and nearly dropped the bowl he was washing. "Take that back, you sour wolf!"

"Again with that, really?"

"It's the truth."

"I just don't get it."

"Wh- how- I- you- what's there to get?"

"The point of the movie."

Stiles sighed. "Derek, there aren't points to movies. They're for entertainment."

It was quiet between them for a moment, the only sound in the apartment was the water running in the sink and the cabinets slamming.

"Hey, Derek?" 

"Yes, Stiles?"

Stiles paused, something he never usually did. Normally, he would say whatever was on his mind, no matter what it was. But this was Derek, who was like a wild animal. You had to slowly get closer, and make no sudden movements, or you'd scare him off.

"If you--"

Derek raised an eyebrow. "If I what?"

"Just, that, you know, if you ever want to talk about stuff, like L--"

Derek's expression switched from friendly to 'don't you dare' in three seconds flat. Stiles cringed.

Abort, abort, abort.

"Just stuff," he amended, "I'm here, okay?"

The werewolf regarded him suspiciously, scanning Stiles's face for a minute.

"Okay," he finally said.

"Okay," Stiles repeated.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Insufferable, Derek Hale decided, that's exactly what Stiles Stilinski is. Forcing his way into Derek's life, and then setting up camp in Derek's heart was unexpected. For Derek to enjoy his company, well, that was even more surprising. The kid had a way of doing that, he realized. The way he'd talk too fast when he was passionate about something, how he'd have a witty comeback for everything-- those were the things that made Derek miss him when he wasn't there rambling on about something stupid or calling him a sour wolf. To be perfectly honest, he didn't mind the nickname that much. It was nice to have someone care enough to have a name just for you. Not _Sweetheart ___or _Babe ___but something personal that reflected his personality, even if it was in a negative way.

__No matter how many times he reminded himself that Stiles was just a friend, he couldn't help but feel a pang of wistfulness every time he stood too close or brushed past him. Friends, that's it, though, Derek reminded himself sternly. Barely that, even. Besides, he's under aged, and straight-- clearly in love with the banshee that was always hanging around with that hunter girl. Lydia Martin, he remembered. It was ridiculous to be jealous of a seventeen year old girl, even more so _why ___he was jealous of her._ _

___No more Stiles, he decided. He had been getting soft lately, feeling more remorseful and angst ridden, as if he were a teenager again and it was disrupting his ability to be a strong leader. Cold turkey, he continued, because the Alpha Pack may be gone, but there's no way that this year is going to finish peacefully._ _ _


End file.
